


the bet

by lizamarri



Series: brooklyn nine-nine au [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADAM IS SHIRO'S FABULOUS HUSBAND I DON'T MAKE THE RULES, Allura (Voltron) is So Done, Allura (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, PERALTIAGO IS ACTUALLY KLANCE ITS SCARY, SO MUCH FLUFF, They're all dorks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, brooklyn nine nine au, have you noticed im crushing on allura, shiro is Tired of his brother's shenanigans and just wants to fall over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizamarri/pseuds/lizamarri
Summary: There was a bet.Who ever arrests more felons wins. The stakes? If Keith wins, he gets Lance's beloved car, Blue. But if Lance wins, Keith has to go on a date with him.When Lance wins, he's going to make Keith sit through the worst dateever.In which everyone is a dork, shenanigans ensue, and Keith and Lance battle it out for the ultimate bragging rightsand try not to fall in love with each other.*BROOKLYN NINE-NINE AU
Relationships: Adam & Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Romelle (Voltron)
Series: brooklyn nine-nine au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095155
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	the bet

**Author's Note:**

> hi this has been banging around my head and i just rewatched the pilot episode and now i am VIBRATING
> 
> klance is SO peraltiago tho like???? black haired poc nerd who is actually dangerous as hell is attracted to a ~~bisexual~~ dork who constantly acts like a goofball but is actually really smart???? ITS THE EXACT SAME.
> 
> this is based on the episodes 'Pilot' and 'The Bet'. Enjoy!

Lance stares into his reflection, blue eyes tensing. “This job is eating me alive,” he says in a gravelly voice. “I can’t breathe anymore. I've spent all these years trying to be the good guy, the man in the white hat.” He lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not becoming like them,” he whispers. “I _am_ them.”

“Hey.”

A voice snaps him out of his trance. He frowns, pivoting. 

There stands Keith Kogane, in his leather jacket obnoxiously hot glory. “What are you _doing,_ weirdo?”

Lance huffs. “I’m doing the best speech from Donny Brasco. Actually,” he turns around, looking at the tech store’s dozen or so TVs that are all showing his tragically handsome face. _“Ten_ of me are doing the best speech from Donny Brasco.” He looks into one of his many reflections, and grins. “Sup, handsome.”

“Get it together, man,” Keith scolds. He turns to the slightly nonplussed Counter Man, who’s just staring at the both of them. The dude is sure to have a name, but Lance just… doesn’t remember it. 

Sue him, he isn’t good with names. 

“So, the store was hit about two hours ago?” Keith asks. “They took mostly tablets, laptops, and cameras--”

From behind him, Lance presses a button on an electric keyboard. Keith whips his head around, black ponytail bouncing as a synthetic bongo drum sound fills the shop.

Lance smiles. “Sorry.”

Keith rolls his eyes and turns back around. “I’d like a list of all your employees, anyone who had access to the store. I’d also like to apologize for my partner... his parents didn’t give him enough attention.”

“Uh, Detective!” Lance calls, his voice soaring with jubilation. “I already solved the case. We’re looking for three white males, one of them with sleeve tats on his arms.”

Keith scrunches up his eyebrows and frowns. “And… how did you know that?”

Lance does his best to look suave. “I have an informant on the inside.”

For the first time today, Keith looks truly confused. Lance watches as those dark eyes flicker over whether or not he’s telling the truth or messing around.”

Lance grins, vindication soaring through his veins. “He’s been here for years. Watching. Learning. Waiting,” Lance steps backward slowly, as dramatic as he can manage without cracking up.

“His code name?” Lance reveals. He leans over and snatches something off the counter. “Fuzzy Cuddle Bear.”

In his hands is a golden teddy bear with a jaunty pink ribbon tied around his breath. Keith’s expression switches from attentive to unimpressed. “What.”

Lance flips the bear around. Inside it’s stuffy little stomach lies a perfect camera. “He’s an anicam!” Lance exclaims, a smile spreading across his face. 

Keith scoffs. “Ughh, you got lucky.”

Lance grins and shakes his head. “No, I got here five minutes before you, and figured that in this giant electronics store there had to be at least one recording camera at the time of the robbery.”

Keith rolls his eyes. Again. 

Lance plugs in the memory card to the uploader for the ten screens. Sure enough, across each of them plays the three guys plundering the store. 

“You did it, Fuzzy!” Lance exclaims, petting the top of the bear’s head. “You busted them! It’s time to come home.”

Lance holds the bear in front of his face. “I’m not sure if I can,” he says in a gravelly voice, holding the bear close to Keith. He moves it like it’s the one that’s talking. “I’ve been away for so long.”

Keith’s pale pink lips curve into a tiny smile. He flicks his eyes to the side, and purses his lips to stop from smiling. 

“I’ve forgotten who I am,” Lance continues. “I have seen… terrible things. I haven’t known the touch of of a lover in many moons--”

“Alright,” Keith sighs, turning away. 

Lance droops. “Detective Kogane!” He cries in the bear’s voice. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“Put down the bear, idiot, and start making a warrant for those guys’ arrest.”

Lance rolls his eyes, and chucks the bear to the side. “You take the fun out of everything!”

Keith rolls his eyes _yet another time._ Seriously, that dude’s gonna get eye damage. “Come on, idiot. The sooner we get back, the sooner we close this case, the sooner we don’t have to work together.”

Lance slumps. “Ughh, shut up Kogane.”

“That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Well, how about this-- shut up and get in the car.”

* * *

“Good job on solving this case so fast,” Captain Shirogane says, looking down at the case file and then up at the two of them. 

Lance preens under the praise, while Keith just gives an awkward little nod. 

Shiro runs his finger over the open and closed time, tilting his head. “Maybe I should pair you together more--”

_“No.”_

Both of them speak at one; it’s uncanny. Lance and Keith look over at each other, before snapping back to Shiro. The latter raises his eyebrows, and shuts the case file.

“It’s… cause of the bet,” Lance says, shooting Shiro his most winning smile. “I can’t exactly _win_ if Kogane and I keep solving the same cases. Though, I technically _did_ solve this case…” Lance’s grin widens, and he turns to Keith. He cocks his head to the side. “What do you say, babe? Think I get the credit?”

Keith grits his teeth, and huffs air out of his nose. “Fine.”

“Whoo!” Lance cries, attracting the attention of a few people around them. Romelle, Shiro’s personal assistant, looks up so fast she knocks her head on her lamp. Cursing, she straightens her ridiculously long pigtails. 

Lance skips over to the giant whiteboard hanging on the wall in the briefing room. He changes his count from twenty three to twenty four. “See Kogane!” Lance yells out the door. “I’m winning!” 

Keith’s count reads twenty two in messy penmanship. When Lance grins gloatingly at Keith, the latter merely glares and shakes his head. “Not for long, McClain!”

“This is a public space, I hope you two know that,” Allura interrupts 

“Oooh, I do,” Lance turns to her and says, his big grin curving into a smaller one. “Wanna go somewhere private, beautiful?”

“You know, that one wasn’t too bad.”

Lance scrunches up his nose. “Yeah? Aww thanks, I’ll put it in the notebook.”

“Hey,” Keith snaps, leaning forward and tapping him on the shoulder. “Can you hurry up your… male posturing session? I’d like to get this case officially closed.”

Lance frowns, squinting at Keith. “Boo, you whore. Fine,” he sighs, picking up the case file from where Shiro left it on Keith’s desk. He scribbles his signature on one of the lines. 

“...Did you just call me a _whore?”_

Lance turns over. Keith’s dark eyes are wide with something between anger and shock, and his mouth is half open. 

Lance sighs, and rolls his eyes. “Have you seriously never seen Mean Girls?”

“Why would I want to?” Keith looks genuinely confused, and Lance just sighs again and pats him on the shoulder. Keith turns to the contact, blinking. 

“You’re so weird,” Lance says in his nicest voice, booping Keith on the nose before pivoting away. 

He doesn’t turn around, but he can see Keith’s little affronted face in the back of his mind clear enough. 

* * *

The end of the day finds him perched on the edge of Romelle’s desk. The latter taps away while Lance runs his hand through one of her ridiculously long pigtails. 

“Seriously, you _have_ to tell me what conditioner you use,” Lance says, for what must be the millionth time this month. He brushes his hand along the ends of her pigtail. “Damn, no split ends.”

“What’s the deal with this whole ‘bet’ thing?” Romelle asks, ignoring his question about her hair. They have a running joke about Romelle just… _never_ telling him. 

“Right,” Lance snaps his fingers, releasing his grip on Romelle’s hair. “I keep forgetting you weren’t here for that.”

He twirls his fingers like a cartoon magician. “Okay, picture this. It’s a Tuesday. I can’t remember the weather because my memory sucks ass, but I _can_ tell you Keith was wearing grey jeans instead of his usual black. We’re all sitting in the briefing room, Keith is being a dick in tight pants as usual. He bets me that he’s the better detective, and how can I ignore _that,_ right?”

Romelle nods for him to go on, completely enraptured in the story at this point. 

“Here,” Lance says. “It’s better if I act it out. 

***

“Okay, then what are the stakes!” Keith cries. “And don’t say money, because I _know_ you’re in debt.”

Lance holds up a hand. “Okay, if you really knew me, you would have said _crushing debt._ And I’ll bet whatever, because there’s no way I’m losing.”

Allura pipes up from behind Keith. “What about your car?” she says with a little grin. 

The entire crowd goes _oooooh._

“Lance, you _can’t,”_ Hunk insists. “That thing is a date magnet. How many girls have you made out with in that car? Like… six?” He trails off in hysterical giggles. 

Lance rolls his eyes. “You’re forgetting all the boys.” He turns back to Keith. “I’m going to win, so sure. Let’s bet the car.” Another chorus of _ooooh_ goes around the room. 

“Lance, don’t!” Hunk cries. “That car is, like, your super power. Losing it would be the worst thing in the world for you!”

“Alright then,” Allura says, her grin running rampant as she turns to Keith. “What’s the worst thing in the world for you, Knife Boy?”

Keith scowls at the nickname, then puts on an expression of disgust. “Being one of those girls in Lance’s car.” 

Lance snarls. “Oh, come at me.”

“It’s settled then!” Allura announces. “If Lance loses, Keith gets his car. If Keith loses, he has to go on a date with Lance in said car.”

“Game on,” Lance says, grinning lopsidedly. “You’d better get out your high heels, babe.”

***

“Oh, so that’s where the babe thing comes from!” Romelle exclaims. “I thought that was just you flirting with him. 

Lance splutters. “Me? Flirting with Keith?” He turns over and points to Keith, who has his feet propped up on his desk with a case folder open on his lap. “Look at him. He’s reading an old case file for _fun.”_

Romelle shrugs. “Everyone has their hobbies.”

“I am _not_ flirting with Keith.”

Romelle shrugs again. “Just seems like you’re pretty insistent to get this date with him.”

“No, I’m pretty insistent to prove my worth over him!” Lance corrects hysterically. “Please, as if I could ever date Keith. He’s a walking Hot Topic advertisement.”

“Still,” Romelle taps something onto her keyboard. “You’re _awfully_ invested in this bet.”

“I am not,” Lance huffs. “Just wait a year. Wait a year and see. I’m gonna beat his ass _so bad.”_

* * *

“The bet ends today!” Lance exclaims from his perch on top of a very-wobbly plastic chair. “Are you ready, Keith? Are you ready?”

“I was born for this,” Keith insists, pulling out that stupid knife from a godddamn _sheath_ behind his back. “I can’t _wait_ to scratch your paint job up with this while you watch.”

“You will _never_ get your hands on Blue!” Lance cries. “Because the whole question was are you ready to lose, and you said you were born for that!”

“Twist my words all you like, Lance, but there is no way you’re winning this.”

Lance starts to do a little jig on top of the plastic chair. “You’re going to lose, you’re going to lose--”

He’s cut off when a plastic pencil cup hits him straight in the dick. Lance groans, and falls off the chair with a crash. 

“Low blow!” Lance cries. “Dammit, Kogane, have you no respect!”

“I’m doing you a favor!” Keith shoots back. “Ending your useless bloodline!”

“Good luck trying to kill all my siblings-- I’ve got six! And this dick can take anything you could throw at it!”

“Aaaand, we’re not talking about dicks anymore,” Allura orders, pulling Lance up by the scruff of his shirt like a naughty cat. “Go. Win,” she says. “I like your car and I want to see Keith in a mermaid dress.”

Lance grins. “See, Keith? I’ve got Princess Allura on my side! I can’t lose now!”

Lance promptly steps backward and trips over the pencil cup, falling down all over again. “Oww,” he grumbles.

Keith remains unimpressed. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?” He asks Allura tiredly. 

Lance snatches up the pencil cup and chucks it at Keith’s stupid face. 

* * *

“McClain!” Keith cries, dragging in some besotted man with a five o’clock shadow. “His name is Larry Constantine, he was arrested for stealing three thousand dollars! This puts me up with one minute to spare!”

“Oh no,” Lance says in the most bored voice he can manage. “You’re going to win.”

Keith preens, sticking his hands on his hips. “Yeah, that’s _right_ ‘oh no’-- wait, you don’t sound worried, oh my god, why don’t you sound worried?” Keith’s switches from gloating to adorably freaked in a second. 

“Romelle!” Lance calls with a flick of his hand. “Bring in the Johns!”

A dozen or so men file through the precinct towards the holding cells, and Lance stands, cocking his head. “I may or may habe not busted a prostitution ring, and _these_ young… well, not so young gentlemen were arrested for soliciting.”

“That’s not an convictable offense!” Keith splutters, his dark eyes wide in panic.

Lance’s grin just widens. “No, it’s not, but it _is_ if it’s your second offense. Which is the case for… what, nine of these gentlemen?”

“Ten!” Romelle corrects, and Lance snaps his fingers.

“Ten,” he says. “And coincidentally, four of them are named John!”

“Oh no,” Keith mewls.

“Accept your face, Kogane. You cannot beat me, I am inevitable!”

“No way, no way, no way!” Keith cries, tugging on his hair. 

“Five,” Lance starts, a hand on his watch. “Four--”

“This cannot be happening!” Keith whines. From behind him, Shiro’s doing his best to conceal a smile. He isn’t doing well, but Keith’s too preoccupied to notice. 

“Three, two, one!” Lance announces, pulling a portable stereo out from behind his chair. He presses play; Romelle and Allura set off two of those twisty confetti bomb sticks, just like he planned.

“McClain wins!” Lance shouts, while _Celebration_ by Kool and the Gang plays in the background. Keith hangs his head, long bangs falling in his eyes. 

Lance dances towards him, all beanpole legs and a too-wide smile. Behind him, Allura clutches Romelle and laughs so hard the latter has to stop in her victory dance to keep her steady. 

“Keith Kogane,” Lance announces, spinning onto one knee and holding out a red velvet box that cost him the horrible price of eight dollars, “Will you go on the worst date in the history of the world with me? You have to say yes.”

Keith scrunches up his nose, and blows his bangs out of his eyes. “Yes,” he grumbles. 

“HE SAID YES!” Lance cries. He tosses the ring box to Keith, who catches it like one would catch a slimy banana peel. “That's for you,” he says, nodding at the box, before bopping his head to the beat.

Through the whole song, Keith only manages to slam his head on the desk once. Lance is going to call that an improvement. 

* * *

“Keith Ko~gane!” Lance yells in a singsong voice. “Date time! Time to date!”

Keith sticks his head out of his front door. “Lance, this outfit is ridiculous!” he cries. “Do I really have to wear this?”

“You know the rules!” Lance calls to the late night air. “I decide what you wear! Now get out here and dazzle, Keithy!”

Keith rolls his eyes and steps out, the streetlight above giving just enough light to see the horrible glory of his outfit. 

Lance rubs his head together. “Oh yes,” he says, with a maniacal grin to top it off. “You look like every boy at a bar mitzvah that I ever had a crush on! C’mon, give it a twirl!”

Keith sighs, and twirls awkwardly. The slacks are a bit too big, but it does well for short notice. 

“You know all the rules?” Lance asks, as Keith adjusts the belt in vain. 

“Yes, I do,” Keith grumbles. “You decide where we go, what we eat, what we do, and--” he gestures down to himself. “What I wear.”

“Yes, and you have two bathroom breaks, so use them wisely.”

Keith nods with clenched teeth, and grabs for the car handle.

“One more thing,” Lance says, holding out a hand. “No matter what… you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

Keith’s dark hair is down for the first time Lance’s seen in months. It’s surprisingly curly, and the dim street lights don’t do him justice. 

Keith sighs. “Won’t be a problem.”

When they pull out of the street, the cans Lance tied to the back clank on the asphalt below a sign reading _Just Lost A Bet!!!_

* * *

“Coming through!” Lance cries, carving a path between all the people with drinks who take their time to stare at Keith’s awful outfit. “Coming through, awful date to show off!”

Keith groans, dragging his hands across his face. “You’re really milking this, huh?”

Lance sends off his widest grin. “As much as I can, babe.”

As soon as he gets to the Nine-Nine’s little spot in the bar, he waves his hands all jazz-like. “Now, as you all know, I have an evening of horror planned for young Keitherson here, but I wanted to take a moment for you all to admire the horrificness that is _this._ Keith, do a twirl!”

Keith, very angrily, twirls. 

Allura whoops. Shiro let his grin reign free this time, and Romelle makes a surprisingly good wolf whistle. 

“And now,” Lance announces. “Keith and I will be performing the Steerage Jig from the film Titanic which we have prepared for in no way, shape, or form, ever.”

Keith’s eyes bug. “What?”

“Take my hand!” Lance cries, as Romelle gives another whistle. She turns over and presses play on the portable stereo that Lance contracted her to bring.

Obnoxiously Irish music begins to play. Lance twirls Keith so fast his hair flops around like a bird nest in a hurricane. The music is jaunty and extremely annoying. “Do the spinny!” Lance yells, and grabs Keith’s hands so they spin holding onto each other, keeping the system balanced with each other’s opposite force. 

“I hate your stupid guts!” Keith yells. 

“Channel that passion into the dance!”

They spin for so long, Lance starts to get double vision. Despite all his fighting grace, Keith is stumbling by the end of it. 

“McClain!”

It’s Shiro. Lance stops the dance for a second. “Allura, take over.”

Allura takes Keith’s hand and walks him through a very gentle waltz; Keith looks relieved beyond his years.

Lance sends Allura double finger guns before turning around to face Shiro. “Hey, Cap, what is it? Am I embarrassing your brother-son-nephew too much?”

Shiro shakes his head with a small smile. “No, I actually brought Adam along to see this.”

Lance looks over to see Adam holding up a still recording phone. Keith shrieks in agony as he eavesdrops on their conversation, realizing that everything must have been recorded, while Adam just shoots off a winning grin. He tips his hexagonal glasses, and Lance has never felt more grateful for his Captain’s husband. 

“Anyway,” Shiro says, drawing his attention back. “We’ve got a tip on one of our long running cases, the Legway and Zurig one.”

Lance frowns. “Yeah?”

“There’s going to be a drop off sometime tonight at the docks. I need you to stake out.”

Lance droops. “Captain, I’m on a date--”

“You can bring Keith with you,” Shiro says. “Sorry, Lance, it’s non-negotiable.”

* * *

“Ughh,” Keith groans, settling into his familiar skinny jeans and jacket, “It is _so good_ to be out of those clothes.”

“Get ready to jump _right back_ into them,” Lance assures. “This won’t take long, and then we’re going to get right back into the worst date of your life.”

“Not true,” Keith corrects. “The worst date of my life is with that one dentist.”

Lance squints. “What?”

“You know? Dentist Man? Ended up giving me a dental inspection over the restaurant table? He stuck his spoon in my mouth and everything. I went to my dentist later; apparently I had a cavity.”

A surprise laugh tumbles out of Lance’s mouth. “I can’t believe--” he laughs again. “He really did that?”

Keith grins. “Yep.” He turns to Lance, propping one elbow on his leg and resting his chin on his fist. “What’s your worst date?”

Lance shrugs. “It’s probably a fifty way tie. The last girl I went on a date with _cried_ when I told her I was a Leo.”

Keith’s eyes fly up. “Are you serious?”

Lance’s face breaks out into a genuine smile. “Why would I lie about that? Come on, would I really tell you something so embarrassing if it weren’t true?”

Keith grins bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth as he switches his attention through the dashboard. “You know, there should be a ladder leading up to that roof over there.” He points, and sure enough, a yellow ladder sticks up the side of the building. 

“Better vantage point,” Keith shrugs. “Besides, I need to get out of your car, it smells like peanuts in here.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know peanuts are a very respectable nut--”

“I’m calling you out before this can happen. Do _not_ make a sex joke right now.”

“Dammit, Kogane!”

* * *

“Hey Lance?” Keith calls from behind the binoculars. “I think a pigeon just flew out of your car.”

Lance grimaces. “Yeah, the windows rolled down a few years ago and then just… didn’t roll back up again.”

Keith shakes his head, dropping the binoculars. “Why the hell do you keep that piece of junk, anyway? It’s got to be a nightmare to drive.”

Lance shrugs. He balances a giant bag of nuts on his lap, popping a few into his mouth as he talks. “Well, the day I bought it, I’d just gotten out of the Academy, like, two days before? I was walking down the street and saw some guy rob a bodega and then run for it. I chased him for _eleven blocks.”_

Keith grimaces. “Oof.”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees. “Well, I finally caught the dude, cuffed him, and slammed him up against--” Lance waves his hands around. “That car.”

Keith smiles. “Really?”

“Yes, really. There was a for sale sign in the window, so I bought it. It’s kind of become a staple of my best day ever.”

Keith smiles softly. “You know, I wasn’t going to burn your car down.”

Lance blinks. “Really?” A cashew almost falls out of his mouth. 

Keith nods. “Yes, really. I was gonna drive it. So I could learn stick.”

Lance shudders, his bag of nuts quivering with him. “Oh god.”

“Can you hear it?” Keith teases. “Squ _eeEEAAKK?”_

“God, please stop,” Lance laughs, pressing his hands to hear ears. “Nooooo!” He throws a handful of nuts in Keith’s face. They all bounce off. 

Keith picks up a single almond and flicks it at Lance. He catches it with his mouth. 

Keith stares, agape. “How did you do that?”

Lance raises his eyebrows. “Are you telling me that you-- you, Keith Kogane, terrifying emo gay _bitch_ who carries around a _knife_ can’t catch a damn cashew in his mouth?”

Keith’s pale cheeks flush red. “...No?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Hang on, I have to see this.”

He picks up a nut and tosses it gently at Keith. The latter moves his mouth under it, and… misses.

Lance laughs. “What were you trying to do, catch it on your nose?”

“Hey, at least I’m _trying_ over here!” Keith looks at the giant nuts bag on his lap. “You know nuts aren’t that healthy for you, right?”

Lance’s eyes bug. “No!” he gasps. “Ughh, I can’t believe that. The nut vendor _lied_ to me!”

Keith laughs, throwing his head back. His teeth gleam white in night; so much for cavities.

Lance’s phone starts to ring. He dumps his giant bag of nuts into Keith’s lap. “See if you can beat me,” he jokes, checking the caller ID. “It’s Shiro.”

“I’ll be here when you get back!” Keith calls, as Lance steps away to the other side of the small roof and clicks Answer Call. 

“Hey Lance,” Shiro’s voice comes through on the line. “Sorry I had to drag you away from your date. I found someone from the night shift to relieve you guys.”

Lance falters. He looks back to Keith, the city lights glinting off his hair as he holds his mouth open in a wide grin, desperately trying to catch just _one_ of the nuts he throws. 

But he fails. Every time. 

Lance turns back around. “Actually,” Lance bites his lip. “You don’t have to send the relief team. We’re all good here.”

“Really?” Shiro asks. “I know how much you wanted to get back to that date--”

“It’s fine,” Lance says. “We can hang out here until we catch ‘em.”

“Alright,” Shiro agrees. “Thanks, Lance.” The line disconnects.

“What did Shiro want?” Keith asks, as soon as he sits back down.

“Just checking in,” Lance lies. “Any progress?”

Keith nods. He holds up a finger, his other hand digging through the bag for a handful of nuts. He throws about a dozen or so into the air, and one of them lands in his mouth. 

“The solution is quantity,” Keith reveals, his voice a little muffled from chewing on the nut.

“Yeah,” Lance breathes. 

Keith grins, his dark eyes shining. He looks so damn happy, with a giant bag of nuts on his lap and a peanut in his hair. 

Lance thinks he may be a little bit in love.

**Author's Note:**

> GET WRECKT LANCE UR IN LOVE
> 
> can u tell i <3 romelle
> 
> part two coming soon! it's already written :)
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @all-this-panic-still-no-disco and come to instagram for a trash can of my faves @liza_marri


End file.
